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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646115">Quarantine In the Life of Good People (Good Omens One-Shots)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMoonstar/pseuds/MsMoonstar'>MsMoonstar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The World According to an Angel, A Demon, and an 11-Year-Old Anti-Christ [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Cats, Christian writing Jewish Holiday, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Hospitals, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Nintendo Wii, One-Shots, Pesach | Passover, Quarantine, Random &amp; Short, Sad Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), hospital squick, may mention it, or may not, the notre dame fire (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:41:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMoonstar/pseuds/MsMoonstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Random Good Omen fics written during the quarantine. It may or may not mention/acknowledge the pandemic in some fics. They may just be random ones I wanted to write but not dedicate a lot of time to doing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The World According to an Angel, A Demon, and an 11-Year-Old Anti-Christ [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Playing a Video Games during quarantine (2020)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of the Bentley idling outside the bookshop made Aziraphale only look up momentarily from his book. Snapping his fingers, the door automatically unlocked itself, and Crowley swaggered in a moment later with a paper bag in his hand. </p><p>“Crowley, I’m surprised to see you here with the quarantine order and all.” Aziraphale said mildly. </p><p>The demon grinned, “I’m occult I can make myself invisible, you know that.” </p><p>Aziraphale’s eyebrows shot up, “And the Bentley?” </p><p>The smirk on Crowley’s face grew, “ Made it invisible too. No one was the wiser.” He sat the bag onto Aziraphale’s register counter and leaned back on it. </p><p>“Did you hear, the PM is in hospital because of the virus?”  Crowley asked with his arms crossed over his chest. </p><p>Aziraphale looked a little crestfallen. “Oh dear, that’s not good is it? I do hope he gets well.”  Then he added. “Did you hear the Queen’s speech today? It was quite moving. It’s just as though she was giving a pep-talk to  Britain during World War II. “ He looked sadly out at the empty streets. “I wish I could do more, Crowley.” </p><p>In fact, the angel had told him what had transpired only a day earlier. Aziraphale had gone to several hospitals, hoping to heal some of the desperately ill, using his ethereal powers to mask his presence. Above had apparently gotten wind of this, and Uriel had appeared at the bookshop. She explained that Heaven hoped that humankind would come up with their own solutions and support one another as they should. She said, in no uncertain terms, that if Aziraphale continued to interfere, his actions to thwart Pestilence would be made known to the semi-retired Horseman. Disheartened, Aziraphale remained at the shop, staying indoors per the nationwide decree.</p><p>“Well, since we’re stuck indoors thanks to the quarantine….” Crowley began, and began to pull something out of the paper bag. It was a sleek white box with small white controllers of some sort. </p><p>“What is that?” Aziraphale looked bemused. </p><p>“It’s  a Wii, Angel.” Crowley was busy miracling a 80’’ television into the middle of the space. </p><p>“A what?! Really, Crowley, such language!” </p><p>“It’s a game, Aziraphale.” </p><p>The angel shifted on his feet. “I’m...not good with technology, Crowley.” </p><p>“This is really simple Angel, I promise. I’m going to get you into the 21st century kicking and screaming if I have to.” He smirked. </p><p>“Where did you get it?” </p><p>Crowley shrugged, “Internet. Got it cheap because it’s old tech.I watched a few videos on how to set it up.” A few moments later, the game screen popped up with a loud set of music that made the angel jump a little, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the chairs along with several bookshelves were pushed back out of the way. “Alright, now all we have to do is put together our avatars.” </p><p>The next ten minutes sprouted a heated debate between them as they settled on Aziraphale’s game persona. </p><p>“I am not that plump, Crowley!” the angel seethed. </p><p>“Sorry, angel.” Crowley muttered, while sliding the adjustment bar to make him look less bulky. Aziraphale’s game avatar looked only slightly like him: tan shirt, yellow hair (they didn’t have blond) brown pants and blue eyes. Crowley’s was even less like his true self. His avatar had black hair (there was no red hair to be found) with sharp bangs, a red shirt, and black pants. There were no eyes that matched his (they were all annoyingly normal colors) so Crowley settled on a set of eyes that made him look “mean” as he put it. </p><p>Once this was completed, Crowley started to teach Aziraphale how to use the controller. “Alright, Angel. I got a disc that has games you like, like bochi ball.” The angel’s eyes lit up. “Want to try a practice game to get the hang of it?” a nod, and he continued. “Right, there’s an ‘A’ button and  ‘B’ button.” He turned it over to show the B button. “You press the two buttons to release the ball. “He demonstrated by tossing the jackball, then took his turn to toss a red ball into close proximity of it. “Your turn!” </p><p>Aziraphale looked a little flustered, but couldn’t get release the ball. “Why doesn’t this thing work, Crowley?” he cried with a little fustration. </p><p>“You have to let go of the ‘B’ button, Aziraphale.” Crowley replied patiently. </p><p>Aziraphale tried again, a cry of delight when he not only succeeded, but managed to click Crowley’s ball out of the way of the jackball. </p><p>“Well done, Angel.” Crowley smiled broadly. </p><p>They played several rounds of bochi ball and won in even matches. Both tried their hands at tennis as well, but were howling the laughter as the tennis ball kept going by without either one of them being able to hit it. </p><p>By the time six o’ clock came around, the pair found their arms sore and their stomach rumbling with hungry. </p><p>“This was fun, Crowley.” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Thank you for bringing this over.” </p><p>“No problem. I can order some more games next time if you like.” He stretched his arms and put aside the controller. “Why don’t I order some Indian take-away and we can pick this up later. We...need to practice our tennis. We’ll watch a movie in the meantime. I’ve got to introduce you to the Harry Potter series.” </p><p>“Next time, can we play Scrabble?” Aziraphale asked, pleadingly. He set aside his controller too, and snapped his  armchair close to the television while Crowley searched for ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone’ on it. </p><p>“Sure thing, Angel.” </p><p>/End Chapter</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Notre Dame Fire (2019)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The 2019 Notre Dame Cathedral disaster and two immortals memories....</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It happened on a cold April day in Paris. Aziraphale had wanted to explore the bookshops of the metropolis to look for a first edition of “</span>
  <b>The Adventures of Captain Hatteras” </b>
  <span>by </span>
  <span> Jules Verne. Crowley had reluctantly agreed to go with him, and they had proceeded to travel all day around the city in search of that particular book. They were perusing the open book stalls on the Seine when Aziraphale first noticed it. There was something wrong, he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Aziraphale had looked up from the row of books to find Crowley near the parapet, staring at something over the water. Setting down a copy of Voltaire, he joined his friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, Crowley?” He asked quietly, but stopped when the demon nodded his head for him to glance across to the Il de La Cite. To his horror, a huge plume of black smoke began to rise from the roof of the Cathedral. “My God, Notre Dame is on fire!” He cried. That had gotten the booksellers’ attention as they stepped out from behind their stalls to look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1163</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale had been on assignment in Paris, while he found Crowley there. They had run into each other in the Latin Quarter, and had strolled for a while.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What are you doing here, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, while they walked over the Pont Neuf.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>“Got an assignment to tempt someone in the royal family. You?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m supposed to be blessing the new cathedral that’s being built.” Aziraphale replied, stopping in front of a construction site. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wot, this place?” Crowley gaped scathingly, pointing to the scaffolding of timber and stone that was being put into place. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“From what I hear,” Aziraphale added craning his neck to look up at the two huge towers, “it’s going to be the biggest cathedral in the city, if not the entire country. They’re going to call it Notre Dame.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tugged on Crowley’s sleeve, “Come on, we have to get close as we can before too many people start to notice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They descended to the Pont d’Arcole, but the entry was already barricaded off. As Aziraphale had predicted, crowds of people had begun to gather, gaping at the calamity taking place in front of them. He watched as some cried, while others just stood planted on the spot, hands over their mouths as black smoke gave way to peaks of red hot fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1260</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale felt awash with the sense of holiness when he stepped foot in Notre Dame. The smell of incense and wax candles assaulted his nostrils, but it was still a pleasant aroma for him. Even his soft shoes clacked under the black and white marble that lay under his feet. The work-a-day lot were still in their daily routines, so he was more or less alone in the huge church. Aziraphale could hear the distant prayers of priests and the heavenly sounding choir in the distance.  He looked up to the huge arches and the lofty ceiling with something akin to awe, and to each of the arches that seemed to be holding it up, all illuminated with standing chandeliers. He passed by several marble statues, the likes of which were masterful and lifelike. Aziraphale let his hands touch the new wood pews as he passed them. He stared in awe of the detailed glass windows, a marvel of ingenuity and beauty the likes had not yet been seen. He stepped into a huge open space where the rose glass windows towered. It was exquisite, having been put in 100 years after the initial construction had begun to rival that of St. Chapelle, who had used stained glass windows to an even grander scale.  At that moment, a beam of light shone through it, allowing the floor to be decorated in prisms of colors and patterns. He felt the Lord’s warmth and light from its luminescence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> Stepping away, the angel found himself at the altar where a glorious gold cross reached high. He knelt before it, hands clasped in prayer, praising God for this inspiration of her glory, and to the humans who had built the cathedral to honor the Holy Realm. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed as they stood alongside the horrified Parisians and tourists for hours. Perhaps they had, because sunset began to descend over Paris even as the flames grew.  There was a cry of despair and horror as the spire caught fire and finally collapsed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Demon glanced over to his counterpart, who stood stiffly, eyes brimming with tears, a few stray ones escaping down his cheeks. This wasn’t good for the angel, and he knew it. “Aziraphale?” he touched the other man on the shoulder and caused Aziraphale to tense even further. “Angel...I think we should leave.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aziraphale said shakily, “no. I-I want to stay. Please, Crowley.” He stared on at the inferno, then whispered, a hand to his throat, “W-what...can we do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shook his head sadly, “There’s nothing we can do, Angel. The humans are going to try their hardest to save it.” His friend was a being of love, and having been on Earth for so long, he was no longer in the glass cage of Heaven, so removed from the humans. It was no wonder that he felt much as those around him now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angel and demon heard a voice rise from the crowd singing, which was soon joined in time by the rest. It was a hymn in French, mournful but uplifting. A small smile sprung from the angel’s lips as he began to sing quietly along with them.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>1833:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have you read M. Hugo’s new novel? It’s called The Hunchback of Notre Dame!” Aziraphale looked up from his desk as Crowley entered the bookshop. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The demon scowled. “I don’t read books, you know that angel.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale looked a little crestfallen, but continued anyway. “It’s about a hunchback who lives in the bell tower, and a gypsy woman.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The demon’s eyebrows rose caustically. “That sounds a little lurid. I swear, I had nothing to do with that story.” Crowley laughed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale looked a little pensive. “I do hope that it brings interest back into the cathedral. It’s been in such terrible disrepair since the Revolution. “</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nearly twenty years later, they stood amazed at the renovated Notre Dame, complete with new grotesque gargoyles and capped with a beautiful spire that sprung into the heavens itself.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale, look!” Crowley tapped him on the shoulder again and pointed to the cathedral. The angel had been looking blankly off into the distance, and only stirred when the demon had called his name. He glanced to where the demon was pointing and gasped. The fire had appeared to have been slowly abating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think they’re getting the blaze under control.” Crowley acknowledged, looking almost as astonished as the angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank God.” Aziraphale whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And to the humans.” Crowley added, nodding to the fire trucks. Hours later, as the crowd thinned slightly and the hellish glow began to disappear from the structure.  “Come on angel, let’s go home.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The next morning, Crowley brought a newspaper to Aziraphale, tapping the headline that read ‘</span>
  <b>Notre Dame Cathedral Saved!</b>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale sat back in his chair limply. “I can’t believe it. They-they did it, Crowley!” He slumped a little, hand over his mouth and tears falling down his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They saved most of the artifacts and the rose windows weren’t damaged. They can rebuild the roof, and it may not be like the old one, but Notre Dame will still stand.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank Heaven for that.” Aziraphale murmured, glancing at the picture of the damaged Cathedral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank someone.” Crowley added solemnly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>End  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>A/N: On April 15th, 2019, a devastating fire ripped through Notre Dame Cathedral, destroying its roof, spire and some of the gables.The building was more or less not too badly damaged save for that. Thanks to priests and others, many of the historical artifacts and paintings were also saved. It will take years for it to be rebuilt, but it's thanks to the bravery of the firefighters and first responders that it still stands.</b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Warlock and the cat (2021)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Warlock is a little lonely, so Nanny Ashtoreth comes up with a plan to cheer him up. </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley had always had a soft spot for children through the ages. He had rescued and cared for them during the Great Flood, had comforted them when their parents died of the Black Plague.  Aziraphale knew that was one of the demon’s soft spots since he had often caught Crowley entertaining children with stories or pantomimes. It was a soft spot that Aziraphale didn’t expect a agent of Hell to have a soft spot for children, but Crowley seemed very much changed from his experiences from living on Earth for so long.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s phone beeped as they walked through St. James Park, the demon looked at it and remarked. “It’s Warlock.” He continued to text while on the phone, not paying attention to the walkway ahead of him and subsequently bumped into people. A few of the passersby shot indignant looks at them, prompting Aziraphale to hastily apologize on his behalf.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Warlock is still in touch with you?” Aziraphale pondered aloud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course. I was his ‘nanny’ for five years, angel.” Crowley answered, but his face was unreadable as always. “Warlock’s parents are going through a separation right now, and Warlock was feeling a little lonely, so he turned to his Nanny.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale shook his head. “It’s sad when couples can’t stay together. Understandable of course, but still sad. I remember that his father always seemed busy in America.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shrugged, “Noticed that too, Aziraphale.” Anyway, I was thinkin’ or rather Nanny Ashtoreth was thinking of getting him a pet. H” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angel gaped at him a moment. “Who are you, and what have you done with Crowley?” he quipped with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The angel finally has a sense of humor!” Crowley quipped back. “Nah, it’s just I felt sorry for him. He hasn’t exactly had the best time of it, and we weren’t much help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A guilty expression passed over the angel’s face. “We were trying to prevent armageddon. It’s not our fault his parents weren’t exactly warm with him.” He paused then added, “What makes you think that a pet would be a good idea?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now it was the demon’s turn to hesitate. “He needs something to occupy his time and take care of, and to keep him company,” Aziraphale said nothing. Another pregnant pause occurred and then Crowley added, “C’mon. Let’s go down to the RSPCA building nearby.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But why a cat, Crowley?” Aziraphale inquired as they passed the various clear cages, stopping at each to inspect the animal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shrugged. “He’s afraid of dogs. Remember when his tutor came to the house with his big boarhound?” Aziraphale looked mystified. “Right, forgot you weren’t in there. Anyway, Warlock was scared of it, so the tutor had to leave it in the front garden and never brought it with him again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stopped in front of one cage that held a long-haired ginger cat with amber eyes and mischievous air about it.  He placed his hand over one of the wide slits that allowed animals to smell visitors. The cat did smell Crowley’s hands which the cat immediately sauntered to and sniffed, rubbing up against the glass. “This is the one, angel,” Crowley concluded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair spent the next twenty minutes acquainting themselves with the creature, who seemed to like both of them equally. Crowley filled out the paperwork, purchased all the necessary items (cage, collar and ID) before sauntering out the door with the cat in hand. When the kind lady behind the reception counter told them that they would check on Crowley and how he was getting on with the cat, the demon muttered, “No, you won’t.” and snapping his fingers, the lady glanced wistfully at them as they headed to the door. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Two days later, when Nanny Ashtoreth walked up the gravel driveway to the Dowling household, Warlock was in the front garden throwing a ball up against the house. He immediately dropped it and rushed towards his former nanny, hugging her around the waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you, Nanny!” Warlock cried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you too, dear.” Nanny Ashtoreth replied, smiling down at him. “Come, I have a present for you, but we need to open it in the house.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The 12-year-old’s eyes grew wide. “A present, for me?” He clapped his hands together with excitement. Crowley extended a hand, which he took. Then together, they stepped into the sitting room and closed the door. Setting the cage on a dining room table, she lifted the Mac to reveal the cage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Warlock’s eyes sparkled, “A kitty!” He exclaimed, bending down to peek at the animal between the tiny bars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nanny Ashtoreth opened it for him, and carefully lifted it out from the carrier. She cooed at the cat, “Come on, darling, time to meet your new owner.”  Warlock’s nanny placed the cat into his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, I love him!” Warlock squeaked, holding the cat close, much to the animal’s discontented meows of protest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Careful with him dear, don’t squeeze him too tight.” Nanny Ashtoreth advised while unclenching the cat a little so that it was more comfortable in Warlock’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What will you name him, dear?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Warlock looked up to the ceiling, seeming to think, then grinned widely. “I think I’m going to call him Cat.” He shrugged, “ The boy said brightly, “It’s just easier.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nanny Ashtoreth rolled her eyes behind her glasses, but smiled at the boy and patted his head. “That’s a nice, lad. Now you take good care of him. You promise?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will!” Warlock shouted, then hugged his former nanny. “Thank you Nanny Ashtoreth!”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, dear.” She waved, beginning to head towards the door when she was stopped by Warlock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Nanny Ashtoreth?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes dear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I thought you said that living creatures were only fit to be ground under my heel.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She winced internally but spun around to address. “I’ve turned over a new leaf, dear little Warlock.” She replied simply, then with a wave of her hand, she left the Dowling residence and a slightly perplexed 12-year-old. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Several months later, Crowley’s phone pinged in his pocket, while he and Aziraphale were driving to their latest favorite sushi restaurant. The demon fished it out of his pocket, swerving all the while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley! Watch the road!” Aziraphale yelped, holding on to the car handle just a bit tighter. He almost gaped at the smile that had appeared on his friend’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Look at this, Angel,” Crowley spoke finally, handing the phone to him. He glanced down at the picture of Warlock holding his ginger cat close to his face, while the cat looked rather grumpy at being held at all</span>
</p><p>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are more pictures, swipe it to the left,” Crowley instructed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did so and found that Warlock had Cat dressed in a kitty sized robe with a red and gold tie (which Crowley explained was from the book series called Harry Potter), one with the cat laying haughty in its large cat bed, and among others, one of them both asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale chuckled. “You’re right, Crowley. That cat did him a world of good. Perhaps Nanny Ashtoreth does know best!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/End Chapter. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>A/N: Eh....it's probably not to surprise a kid (or anyone) with a pet unless they're ready to take care of one. </b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hit by a Car (2008)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale is injured and is forced to rely on human care....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>NOTE: This has some description of being hit by a car, some blood and vague hospital procedure scenes. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, you may want to skip the next two chapters.</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <span class="s-rg-t">May 2008</span> </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> didn’t mind traveling, even though he had been everywhere around the world in his 6,000 years of existence.  He still liked to explore the ever-evolving cultures. Though Rome seemed to never evolve from its ancient roots, despite the introduction of cars and scooters to the city roads.  Today, however, it was delightfully warm, and he was glad to be away from rainy London.  He had a duty to perform in the city, being ordered by Gabriel to whisper in a certain Cardinal’s ear about the beautification of an individual. Marta Anna Weicka was a  nun and nurse who worked most of her adult life in hospitals, until she herself became ill with typhoid and died. <span class=""><span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span>  had reluctantly told  <span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span>  that  he was  going  to Italy and that  he  would not  have  to tag along if  he  didn’t want to, which was fine because it seemed that <span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span> also had  business in neighboring Greece. </span>   <br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
The angel had already been ‘offering hints’ to Cardinal <span class="s-rg-t">Celadion</span> by scraps of paper that seemed to randomly appear in whatever hallway he was walking through. This  proved  to  be  a  mistake , however, as the  cardinal perceived   it  as ‘supernatural’ and  told  a fellow priest about  it. <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> had rolled his eyes  at this; humans could be so clever at times as so dense at others.   <br/>
<br/>
He stopped off at one of his favorite gelato shops and happily carried away a cup of Tiramisu gelato.  Sighing, <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> decided to traverse the street to a park to escape the heat and enjoy his treat. He merely had three days to complete his assignment, though he didn’t know what the rush on the deadline was for. Today was Friday and he had to come up with a alternative plan... fast.   <br/>
<br/>
His reverie was disturbed by a screech of tyres.  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> looked up to recognize a car barreling towards him, but by that time it was too late.  </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<span class="s-rg-t">Costantino</span> <span class="s-rg-t">Pavia</span> was late. In fact, this was the first time he’d been late for a while as he’d been out of a job for months.  At long last, he was granted an interview at <span class="s-rg-t">Pellegrini-De</span> Rosa Group as an associate.  His alarm clock had failed to go off, so he was rushed to get dressed.  He jumped into the car, speeding off, all the while glancing at the clock.  The man decided to take the side streets as a shortcut.  <br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
Sighing, Costantino shifted his radio on, only for it to return loud static.  Grumbling, he looked down and shifted the dial, hoping that he could find some station that would come in.  He <span class="s-or-t">finally</span> tuned in a channel and looked up to glimpse a man in a tan three-piece suit crossing the street.  Pounding on his breaks, his eyes closed, knowing that the pedestrian would not have time to get out of the way.  The car shuddered upon the considerable impact, the man’s body going across his bonnet and onto the street as he skidded to a halt.  <br/>
<br/>
Jumping out, <span class="s-rg-t">Pavia</span> hurried to the man’s side, rolling him over onto his back.  Blue eyes slid half-open, filled with pain and confusion.  <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“<span class="s-rg-t">Senoire</span>, sta bein?”  <span class="s-rg-t">Pavia</span> asked, subsequently seeing a crowd beginning to form he called,“Someone contact the hospital! ”<br/>
<br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
“<span class="s-rg-t">A-auiti</span>.”  The man muttered under his breath, “h-hurts... ” <br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
“This day is turning out badly for both of us, this man more.”  <span class="s-rg-t">Constantino</span> sighed.  He fished through the man's pockets to find a British passport and identification that read <em>Ezra Fell. Born 27.10.1966  </em>in his wallet.  A few moments later, both the police and an ambulance arrived at the scene of the crash. <span class="s-rg-t">Constantino</span> experienced a hard time concentrating on informing the officer what happened as he contemplated the man being lifted into an ambulance. He offered a brief silent prayer that the old gentleman would be alright. </p>
<hr/><p> <br/>
<span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> struck the car with a force that first caused him to sail across the bonnet, then onto hard pavement.  The world blinked out of existence for a moment. When he came to, <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> could see the blazing sapphire sky and a dark-haired man kneeling over him through his blurred vision.  Over the buzzing in his ears, he could discern the man asking him if he was alright in Italian.  He returned between shallow breaths in an almost inaudible tone, “<span class="s-rg-t">A-auti</span>. ”<span class="s-bl-t">Then</span> as he couldn’t summon the strength to continue in that <span class="s-bl-t">language</span><span class="s-bl-t">. </span>“ <span class="s-rg-t">H-Hurts</span>. ”<br/>
<br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
Everything in his body was racked with pain, his breaths coming in staggering gasps.  The shouts were nothing more than muffled distant mumblings between the static of his brain.  Every inch of his left side was nothing but excruciating pain.  He tried to shift his head, but that too proved to be a mistake as a fire of agony ripped down his head and neck.  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span>   summoned  his last reserves of angelic energy to heal  the worst of it, which  was  only the bare minimum that allowed  some of the  pounding  in his  skull  to  stop.  He coughed, horrified to find the coppery tinge of blood escaping up his throat and into his mouth.  <br/>
<br/>
 <br/>
<br/>
<span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> could hear the distance wailing of a siren, a comforting masculine voice declaring to him he’d be alright.  He wasn’t certain of that.  Frankly, he wanted to just discorporate and return to Earth with a new, undamaged body.  Groaning, he found that no more could be done and that he’d have to submit to the humans’ version of care.  The thought of going to a human hospital made him shudder;  the pain and suffering that emerged from its walls had remained a constant source of distress to him, even as far back as they had first existed.  To be an inmate now filled him with dread, despite his confidence in the doctors.   </p><p> <br/>
<br/>
Time shifted slowly as two more men in blue uniforms carefully addressed his wounds. “<span class="s-rg-t">Senoire</span> Fell, do you suffer any pain here?” It brought back the agony when they prodded his left flank and jarred his shoulder. Vaguely, he could feel the slight twinge of something sharp being pushed into his wrist, a numbing sensation rushing through his veins. He could perceive one of the attendants urging him not to faint as he was transported into the ambulance, but his body stubbornly decided to do otherwise.  </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> heard the chatter above his head, all of it in Italian.  Some of the medical <span class="s-ja-t">jargon</span> filtered through his ears, familiar to him after all the times he had been with wounded soldiers in hospitals during the World Wars. Groaning, he tried to open his eyes and perceived himself staring up at people in white.  Had he <span class="s-rg-t">discorperated</span> and gone back to Heaven? <span class="s-bl-t"> Looking</span> closer, he could see surgical gear and winced. He was in the hospital then.  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> felt the hard plastic mask over his mouth and nose that was expelling air into his face and helping him <em>breathe</em>.  He tried to bob his head, but a pair of hands and a kind feminine voice for him to stay still with a gentle cajole.  He could hear a deafening constant beep from somewhere.  <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Someone had placed a hand on his un-injured shoulder. Finally, his sight cleared enough to scrutinize an older man with immense brown eyes magnified by large framed glasses peering down at him.  In a heavily accented English, he said “Mr Fell?  I’m Doctor <span class="s-rg-t">Finelli</span>.  Are you in pain anywhere? ” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“<span class="s-rg-t">M-my</span> shoulder, <span class="s-rg-t">m-my</span> leg... ribs... <span class="s-rg-t">mmmfff</span>... <span class="s-or-t">hurts</span>. ”<span class="s-bl-t"> Aziraphale</span> stuttered.  <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Can you flex your fingers?”  The angel did so, albeit slowly, followed by his toes when prompted by the doctor.  “Does your head hurt?  How bad is the pain on a scale of <span class="s-or-t">1</span> to 10? ”<span class="s-bl-t"> There</span> was a light shone in his eyes, causing him cringe.  <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“F-five…”  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> stammered, then wincing, gasped.  “N-no. <span class="s-bl-t"> Six</span>. ”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He heard more orders being shouted by others, but he couldn’t focus on what they were saying.  Someone was patting his hand, telling him not to worry and that they would take care of him.  It was so surreal to be on this end of it.  Being an angel, <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> had done the same for the ill, the injured and the dying.  He even uplifted souls, telling them they would find their place as they took their last breaths.  He tried not to think about that last part.  Having to explain to Gabriel how he <span class="s-rg-t">discorperated</span> after getting hit by a car infused him with dread.  But, the angel was one of Faith, so he <span class="s-ve-t">place</span> his corporeal body in the hands of these skilled medical personnel.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“We’re going to get you stabilized, then move you up to surgery, alright?”  Doctor <span class="s-rg-t">Finelli</span> leaned over him.  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> couldn’t speak nor object, he could merely feel a more powerful cold liquid race through his system.  His vision went blank, and <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> felt nothing as the world was swept from under him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <i>*October 27th is the day that according to Good Omens verse, Adam and Eve were created (the sixth day of creation) and that’s probably when Aziraphale was sent down to guard the Eastern Gate. 1966 makes him 42 years old in 2008. As he looks middle aged to most humans, he probably has to constantly change the birth year to reflect that.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>I had such a tough time writing this chapter solely because of the little information of how a pedestrian involved car accident is treated in the E.R. I kept it a little vague for that reason, and so that we could see it from Aziraphale's point of view as well.</i></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hit by a Car (2008) Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Aziraphale wakes....and Crowley takes up his mission.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>a/n: I know, this took so long to post, I was really stuck!<br/>I'm not quite finished with the hospital chapter. This was going kind of long so, I decided to break it up.<br/>TW: Hospital procedures referenced. Please skip if you don't want to read it.</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale felt the gentle pressure of fingers on his wrist. A confusing delicate scent of floral perfume and a more vigorous one of an astringent wafted to his nostrils. He heard the loud clicking of something in short intervals. A consistent beeping was issuing from his left again along with another that was slower in tone and lower in pitch. </p><p> </p><p>A soft feminine voice addressed him gently in very good English. “Senoire Fell? I’m nurse Alessa. Can you open your eyes for me? ” He sleepily tried to make sense of what had happened. A hospital? How long had he been senseless? All of those questions seemed to come on the heels of remembering being hit by a car. He thought of being struck down, the impact and the trauma that followed as he fell to the ground. It was only then that he began to feel the pain that surged at various broken parts of his corporeal body. </p><p> </p><p>His eyes opened, causing him to wince. The blurriness faded away with each blink. The brightness besieged his vision, forcing him to squeeze them shut. The nurse noted this, and turned off the room lights, leaving on the overhead one. The angel suddenly felt a rush of panic when he discerned that something was obstructing his airway. He found that his left arm had been secured to his chest with the horrifying realization that it had been injured as well. Aziraphale tried to move, but a hand on his uninjured shoulder and chest prevented him from doing so.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“No no...shhh. You’re alright, you’ve just got a tube in your throat to help you breathe.”The nurse soothed while giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.“Try to inhale and exhale with it, okay?” </p><p> </p><p>Finally, some degree of the initial terror subsided enough that he drew in breath with the machine. Nurse Alessa smiled pleasantly. “Good. I’m going to examine you, then we’ll get that tube out, alright? Just keep breathing.”</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes elapsed before she snaked her stethoscope across her neck, finished with the examination. Aziraphale now grasped why humans hated hospitals; the poking and prodding were an agony unto itself, not to mention embarrassing to endure. He was trying to understand all the medical equipment that seemed attached to him. The nurse calmly explained about the heart and blood pressure monitors, then the pulse oximeter, as well as the other uncomfortable tubes.  </p><p> </p><p>He felt slightly awed by how far medical technology had progressed. Aziraphale had been a medic during the First World War and had seen terrible injuries inflicted by mortar and toxic gas. The hospitals had undertaken what they could, as did he. Some soldiers still received horrific injuries that would never heal, both mental and physical. Many a day he had observed the lifeless expressions of soldiers wounded in battle wandering the wards looking hopeless and empty.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing well.” Nurse Alessa’s voice beckoned him away from the gruesome memories, “You’ll still have a headache due to the concussion from striking the pavement. We have you on medication to ease most of your pain from your injuries. The doctor will brief you on all of those, though.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Thank Heaven I’m an angel that can heal myself...somewhat at least </em>. He thought to himself.</p><p>Aziraphale suddenly had an idea. He mimed writing, which gained her attention.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to write something?” She went to a cupboard to withdraw a clipboard while fishing out one of her pens for him to write with. He wrote slowly, his mind trying to catch up to the task. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Was the driver hurt?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The nurse shook her head. “He wasn’t injured, Senoire, but he was quite worried about you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>What day is it? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Saturday afternoon.” She glanced at the clock, “About 1:00.”</p><p> </p><p>Saturday? He’d been unconscious for nearly 24 hours. He nonetheless would have time if he could contact Crowley-</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Can you call a number for me? </b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Nurse Alessa blinked, “We already have, Mr. Fell. We’ve phoned a Senoire….Crowley about the accident. He said that he would be on the next plane from Athens.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale bore a slight sense of relief, silently blessing the Arrangement between him and the demon. That relief soon turned to trepidation again as he remembered that The Vatican provided sacred ground and Crowley wouldn’t be able to step foot on it without being smote. </p><p> </p><p>Tiredly he thought,<em> Crowley is clever, perhaps he’ll think of something. He safeguarded me from those Nazis at the church in 1941.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He was struggling to stay awake; lethargy began to overwhelm him. Nurse Alessa checked the intravenous lines beside him one last time before smiling sympathetically towards her patient. She discreetly took the clipboard and pen from him. He could sense that the pain was dulling throughout his battered body.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale thought of the reprimand he would receive from Gabriel and shivered, prompting her to ask. “Are you cold? Let me go arrange for another blanket."</p><p> </p><p>She returned a moment later and tucked another warm cover around him. Nurse Alessa chirped. “You go back to sleep, senoire. Your friend will be here soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Lulled by the blanket’s comfort, the anxiety melted away as he shut his eyes and allowed himself to drowse. </p><p>  </p><hr/><p>“Aziraphale!” A deep voice hissed. The angel’s eyes opened to observe an inky shadow approaching his hospital bed. He was grateful he merely wore an oxygen mask now, because it would have sparked a worried frenzy. The demon sat in the uncomfortable visitor chair looking with abject horror at the machines and tubes around his friend with some form of panic after all. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Forty minutes earlier a doctor who introduced himself as Doctor Carsino had come in to explain all his injuries. They included a broken clavicle, ribs, and left pelvis bone, as well as a concussion and internal bleeding. They had been remedied, but the doctor had said that he would be some time healing. After this, the tube in his throat had been removed. It had been one of the most harrowing experiences in his life. Not long after being put on the oxygen mask, he’d fallen asleep again, his body exhausted from the coughing and stress he suffered during the procedure. </p><p> </p><p>“What the Heaven happened, Aziraphale?!” Even behind the sunglasses, Aziraphale could recognize the distressed look on his face. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale tried focusing on his friend, his head still aching. “Got hit by a car.” he mumbled. He felt tears beginning to well up, threatening to fall. “I’m so irresponsible! I won’t be able to finish my mission...will be reprimanded!” The angel trembled, then the dam broke and he began to sob. </p><p> </p><p>“Angel!” Crowley carefully gripped his friend’s uninjured shoulder. “Please don’t cry! They’ll throw me out if they know I’ve distressed you. C’mon, calm down. Don’t blame yourself for what happened, Angel. It was an accident, and they told me it was the driver’s fault, not yours.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s tears gradually subsided, though it had caused him to look even more pale. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Crowley paused and quipped, “You look awful, by the way.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pouted, “Much appreciated, Crowley.” he sniffed. The angel realized the demon was trying to cheer him up in his usual manner. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s smile disappeared. “Why aren’t....why aren’t your powers working? Shouldn’t you be healing by now?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel shook his head slightly, “Used it all up to stop from discorperating and healing what I could...which wasn’t much. I-I’m too weak right now to summon it.” he answered between breaths. </p><p> </p><p>“I could try healing you, Angel.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shook his head again, “You’re demonic miracles won’t work on me. You know that.” </p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re stuck here for the time being?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded solemnly. </p><p> </p><p>“What was your mission?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel pulled down his mask to tell him about the priest he was supposed to influence on behalf of Marta Anna Weicka, which Crowley researched on his smartphone. </p><p> </p><p>The angel said, “I  received a photograph of Cardinal Celadion in the pocket of my coat, along with the file on him.”  </p><p> </p><p>Crowley retrieved the angel’s garments from a small cabinet. Aziraphale was nearly in a state when he saw the torn clothes that his friend pulled from a white ditty bag. Crowley, seeing that the angel was about to burst into tears again, miracled them back to normal. He pulled the photograph and file from Aziraphale’s pocket, studying it a moment, then returned to the bedside with it. </p><p> </p><p>At the end of his explanation, Aziraphale’s blue eyes grew wide. “You...you can’t go to the Vatican...you’ll be annihilated!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley screwed up his face. “No, I won’t. I went to the Vatican way back during Pope Leo X’s reign. I was tasked with tempting him to go to war.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale glanced up, a little bemused. “I was sent there to convince him to rebuild the Sistine Chapel.” He tried to smile, but it promptly disappeared. “I can’t ask you to carry out my job for me, Crowley. Not this one, anyway. I’ll endure the punishment from Gabriel. It-it won’t be that bad.” </p><p> </p><p>The demon screwed up his face. “Don’t count me out yet, Aziraphale.” He seemed to think for a moment, “Who was it that had dreams about what was going to happen?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale replied, “Joseph. He had dreams cautioning him about the slaughter of first born infant sons...”He quieted then, remembering that time in humans' history. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes lit up as he stood. “That’s it then! I’ll make him dream. I’ll keep dropping hints till he gets it.” </p><p> </p><p>The angel shifted subtly. “A-are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to take any unnecessary risks, Crowley.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He didn’t speak for a moment, then “Here, let’s make you a little more comfortable, shall we?”With a snap of his fingers, the two flat hospital pillows became down feathered, and with another snap, his thin blankets turned into a soft downy one. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Crowley.” He sighed, leaning back, while the demon set the oxygen mask back onto his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Now you will be a good little angel till I get back.“ He waggled his finger, to which Aziraphale rolled his eyes. He was already at the door when Aziraphale called out, “Crowley!” The mask was half down his face again.“Be careful.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry Angel; I will. You just focus on getting better. Get some rest. I’ll be back in a while.” </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Crowley mingled among the pilgrims and tourists alike who were milling about Vatican City’s outer grounds. No doubt that they were streaming to the Sistine Chapel or the adjacent museum. The demon, however, had different plans as he pushed rudely past people taking pictures of the palace or themselves in front of it. His feet were already beginning to tingle with the first implication of pain. He defied it by making himself invisible so that he could reach the Papal residence. Crowley had ascended several sets of stairs, hidden to the various occupants. </p><p> </p><p>Several priests glided by him, only one or two glanced back towards him, sensing his presence, but not observing him. They spoke privately among one another in pairs about the issues of the day. It hadn’t taken long for Crowley to notice the cardinal Aziraphale was tasked with influencing, meandering past him on the other side of the corridor. The demon turned on his heel and decided to forgo the plan. Snapping his fingers, the world around him came to a sudden halt, including Celadion who now had a blank look on his face. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re Cardinal Celadion, right?” Crowley hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“I am.” the priest replied airily. </p><p> </p><p>“Good. Lissssten to me now…” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>TBC....</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Hit by a Car (2008) Part III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <b>Frustrations and hope follow while Aziraphale's in the hospital<b></b></b>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <i>You may notice that the date of 1998 was swapped with 2008. This was solely to make a Youtube reference and move the plot along. I ended up changing the lady to Marta Anna Weicka to match the time period in question. Also I made a mistake in the first chapter by referring to Aziraphale's birth year as 1956 rather than 1966, which has been fixed. Finally,  I was informed that most pedestrian accidents have a broken pelvis, not a broken hip and that also has been corrected.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>ALSO: I got a wonderful piece of fanart to go with this chapter! Thank you to Mariya!</p><p>  <i>Enjoy!<i></i></i></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Super long chapter ahead! ONWARD!</strong>
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<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">
    <em>Hospital Part III</em>
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</p><p> </p><p>Nearly an hour later, Crowley appeared in Aziraphale’s room again. “Hey, Angel, I’m back.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stirred and smiled under the mask. Crowley miracled the visitor chair into a plush armchair and plopped himself into it. The demon noted that Aziraphale’s white hospital gown was now changed into a blue one, and he was wearing a pair of scrub pants, though the miracled pillows and blanket were still there. A medicinal cleaning smell hung on to the angel, but he didn’t say anything about it, so as to not embarrass Aziraphale further.  The angel’s glance and pinked cheeks told him the demon had noticed.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale spoke up first. “Hello Crowley. How...did you get on at the Vatican?” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley brightened, “Brilliantly angel. I managed to ‘persuade’ him on behalf of that Marta Anna whatshername.” </p><p> </p><p>“Weicka, Crowley.” Aziraphale sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, her.” The demon said dismissively, “Anyway, I may have hypnotized him and given him the suggestion of a beatification of the lady.” </p><p> </p><p>The angel looked down at his lap. “Thank you, Crowley.” He returned quietly. “For doing this for me, I mean.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley muttered, “No big deal, angel.” </p><p> </p><p>Any further discussion was tabled as Nurse Alessa knocked and entered Aziraphale’s room. “ Good evening Senoire Fell. How are you feeling?” She inquired while taking his vitals. </p><p> </p><p>“Better,” Aziraphale sighed, “Still a bit sore.” Aziraphale shifted, then winced.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, a little pain is expected for now.” Nurse Alessa smiled. “A bit of good news; we’ll be moving you down to the step-down unit on Monday. “ </p><p> </p><p>“Thank Heaven,” Aziraphale sighed. He glanced towards Crowley, who gave him a tight grin. </p><p> </p><p>An intercom system sparked to life, making an announcement first in Italian, then English. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Visiting hours will end in five minutes. All guests must….. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“”That sounds like an order.” Crowley muttered,  “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Sunday found the demon at Aziraphale’s side for most of the day. The angel spent a majority of it eating, napping, or being looked after by a small army of nurses who chattered pleasantly while performing their duties. </p><p> </p><p>When one asked for him to leave the room so that some of the medical equipment could be removed, Crowley blanched and quickly agreed. Upon his return, he could see that Aziraphale now sported a thin tube under his nose (which the nurse called a nasal cannula that was supplemental oxygen), a heart monitor and an intravenous line.</p><p> </p><p>There was a lull in their conversation for a time. Then Crowley spoke, “Do you need to write a report?” Aziraphale hesitated for a moment then nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“No problem.” He miracled a thick piece of paper and a ballpoint pen on the rollaway table, which had moved on its own to the angel’s bed. Quietly, Crowley gave a detailed account of what had happened. Aziraphale wrote in careful penmanship, slightly displeased at the tiny wobble in it. Ten minutes later, the report was completed, signed by him, and stuffed into a miracled envelope. Aziraphale wrote in his perfect handwriting, “Gabriel” on the front of it, then placed it under his pillows.</p><p> </p><p>Close to six in the evening, Crowley looked up from his video exploration of a new app called Youtube to see Aziraphale holding his book, but with a furrowed brow and frustrated expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel? What’s wrong? Should I call a nurse?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shook his head slowly. “No. I just-” he looked back at his copy of <em> The Merchants of Venice </em>and sighed. I can’t seem to concentrate on the words of the book. My mind feels...fuzzy. Like I’m drunk, but I’m obviously not.” </p><p> </p><p>“You’re still recovering from a concussion, Aziraphale. Remember in 1485 when you were hit over the head by someone who thought you were a demon?” </p><p> </p><p>“What a stupid man,” Aziraphale grumbled, recalling the incident very well in his mind. </p><p> </p><p>“Look, do you...do you want me to read to you?”  </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s brows lifted, “Would...would you mind? You’ve got such a panache for Shakespeare.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley read for nearly a quarter of an hour. when he looked up from the book, the demon found Aziraphale had fallen asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. </p><p> </p><p>The demon glanced out the window as sunset  began to canvas the city. Crowley tucked the blanket up to Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Goodnight, Angel.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Crowley stepped out of the elevator on Monday morning and sauntered towards Aziraphale’s new hospital room. He was just at the door when a nurse stepped close to him, making him jump. </p><p> </p><p>“Senoire...Crowley?” The woman inquired. He nodded and she continued, “May I speak with you a moment? It’s about Senoire Fell.” </p><p> </p><p>He assented, following her into a family room that was cozily furnished with couches and tables.  On the other side of the room was a small kitchenette that reminded him of Aziraphale's bookshop. His stomach jumped at the thought that something could be wrong, but he sat smoothly on the couch. </p><p> </p><p>“So, what about Az-er-Ezra?” </p><p> </p><p>The nurse was calm but her face was pinched. “I think something is bothering Senoire Fell. He didn’t seem in such good spirits. And he hasn’t eaten anything today. He seems...morose. We’ve tried to coax him into talking to us, but he’s..quiet. He doesn’t look like he slept at all last night.  If he continues to not eat, then we’ll have no choice but to put the NG tube back in.”   </p><p> </p><p>Crowley grimaced. That was not like the angel at all. He probably already knew the answer to what seemed to be bothering the angel, but decided to put it to Aziraphale anyway. </p><p> </p><p>He stood lazily. “Right, I’ll have a talk with him.  See if I can’t get him to eat something.”</p><p> </p><p>Her expression changed to a more pleasant one. “Thank you, Senoire Crowley. He’s such a nice patient, I’d hate for him to fall backwards and not do well.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley nodded,  “Can I go see him?” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course. Please go ahead.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” he muttered, then fled.</p><p> </p><p>He strode to Aziraphale’s door again. Looking around, Crowley snapped his fingers, an antique copy of “Oliver Twist” that he had bought at an antique bookshop appeared in his hand. It had been one of Aziraphale’s favorites, having met the author. He knocked and was met with a disconsolate “Come in.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley strolled in as though he thought nothing was wrong. The angel wasn’t looking at him, but staring out the window, not moving or acknowledging him as he entered the room. </p><p> </p><p> “Hi angel!  Brought you a present! Look!” He said cheerfully, placing the book on the rollaway table. His brows knitted, and then he took a breath. “One of your favorites!”    </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale finally turned his head to look at the book. It was then that Crowley could see the pale, drawn face of the angel. Dark circles under his eyes showed just how glassy they were. Aziraphale was wringing his hands under the table. The demon could see the discarded food tray on a nearby counter. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong, Aziraphale?” He pretended to look at the tray, “You haven’t touched your meal. S’not like you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hospital food isn’t pleasant.” Aziraphale muttered, still not looking at him. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley raised a hand and chuckled, “My side’s idea. Sorry.” The angel uttered nothing, and his frown returned. The demon flopped into the visitor chair casually. “So, you want to tell me what this is about, or should I hazard a wild guess?” He was once more met with silence. “What did Gabriel say to you?” </p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t Gabriel; it was Michael.” Aziraphale finally admitted. “She was surprised to find me in a human healing facility...especially as a patient. Apparently, they were waiting for my report in Heaven. When I didn’t show...Michael was sent down to locate me; she reprimanded me for that.” His eyes swung to him, then back to the blanket. “She said that she’d expect an angel to be skilled enough not to be hit by human vehicles. Michael said that my dying would be inconvenient for Heaven due to all the paperwork. I lied to her Crowley; I informed her that I was struck on Sunday. Luckily she does not know much about human medicine that she believed me. Michael took my report and said that I should expect a ‘formal reprimand’ for being late with it.” </p><p> </p><p>“Look, I keep having to tell you, this was not your fault. You weren’t responsible for that idiot hitting you. Gabriel and those other arseholes are trying to tear you down.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should have done my job, Crowley. Instead you had to do it for me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Even so, you could have been hit and still be in the same situation as you are now. So you lied, so what? You and I have been lying for each other with the Arrangement...and doing each other’s assignments. You would do everything in your power to do the same if I’d been hurt. Don’t try to be a martyr, Aziraphale. ”</p><p> </p><p>The angel looked at his hands, “I suppose you’re right, Crowley. I-I’m sorry.” He shot Crowley a watery smile. “Thank you for the book, by the way.” He opened it and his eyebrows rose in delight.”A first edition in Italian. It’s wonderful, Crowley!”</p><p> </p><p>The demon smiled broadly, “Only the best for you, Angel!” He snapped his fingers, and the tray had been replaced with a  more palatable meal: poached eggs, British style porridge, a bread roll with butter and jam, and semi-hot tea. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you Crowley. I think I might need you here for every meal.” </p><p> </p><p>The demon waved away the compliment but snickered non the less. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to finish the delicious breakfast. He sat back happily. “I feel like a new angel!”  His eyes were growing heavy as his head listed to the left and stifled a yawn. </p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Crowley huffed, “The next thing you need is sleep. You haven’t slept all night, I can tell.” </p><p> </p><p>‘M tired of sleeping all the time.” the angel groused in a half-awake tone. </p><p> </p><p> You’re stuck with a human body right now, Angel. You’re just gonna have to heal the slow way.” </p><p> </p><p>“Bugger that…” Aziraphale muttered,before his breaths evened out and his eyes dropped shut.  </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Near nine in the morning the next day, Crowley found the angel in an odd chaise lounge glancing out the window.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong, Aziraphale?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel turned, and looked as though he was trying to school his face into a more pleasant expression. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m not buying it, Angel.” Crowley snipped. </p><p> </p><p>The smile lasted a full five seconds before it faded away. His gaze went to the sky outside. Quietly, Aziraphale said, “It's been four days, Crowley and my power hasn’t returned.” </p><p> </p><p>“Have a little faith, angel. That’s what your side preaches, right? Your powers are going to come back.”  A pause. “How about we go for a short walk? Well, I’ll walk and you’ll sit in this.” He rolled over a wheelchair. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale glanced at the contraption with dismay. “I-I can’t sit in that!” </p><p>“If you want to go anywhere you will.” Crowley spouted. “C’mon Aziraphale. You want to get out of these four walls, don’t ya?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel frowned, while carefully swinging his legs over the side of the bed, tentatively touching the floor. “I can walk on my own, Crowley.” </p><p> </p><p>“Angel, don’t!-” </p><p> </p><p>As soon as Aziraphale put his entire weight on his injured leg, he crumpled with a cry of pain. Crowley lunged forward, caught the angel by the chest, and shuffled the stout weight to place him into the awaiting wheelchair. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re too stubborn for your own good, do you know that, Angel?” Crowley huffed. </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose so.” Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. The demon snapped, the I.V pole magically positioned behind the chair, then tucked the blanket from his bed around him. “Ready, angel?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale let out one resigned grumble, then said, “Alright.” </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the first stop, Aziraphale?”  </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed while placing a hand in his chin. “It doesn’t matter, Crowley.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley bit his lip at his friend’s asperity, but continued with a cheerful, “I know just the spot.” He wheeled them down the various corridors. They passed through the hospital vestibule out onto a patient balcony. The duo stepped into a warm spring day. Aziraphale raised his head to the blue sky where fleecy light clouds passed by. </p><p> </p><p>“Thought you’d want to see this, Angel.” Crowley spoke, directing Aziraphale’s attention to the domed roof of St. Peter’s Basilica. The bells marking noon peeled, wafting into surrounding neighborhoods with a reassuring presence.</p><p> </p><p>Not long after the final ring died away did they hear the automatic hospital doors swish open and a woman in a wheelchair come out to the veranda, stopping on the opposite side of the balcony. She was of regular height but thin and very wan, her cheekbones cavernous. She wore a pink bandana on her head, and a downcast expression on her face. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale, ever the angel, decided to speak up. “Hello, miss. How are you on this lovely afternoon?” </p><p> </p><p>The lady seemed quite surprised that he was even speaking to her. “I-I am fine….grazie.” She seemed to consider him a moment. “You are British, no? What are you doing in a hospital? Well, obviously you’re injured.” </p><p> </p><p>Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to flush. “I er-got struck by a vehicle and will be some time recovering from it.” </p><p> </p><p>Her expression changed to one of sympathy, “Oh, that’s quite bad. I am sorry. I hope you are better soon.” </p><p> </p><p>He bobbed his head in thanks, “My name is Ezra Fell. And this is my friend Crowley.” </p><p> </p><p>“My name is Cecilia Milani.” She returned. “It’s nice to meet both of you.” </p><p> </p><p>“I hope that you win your battle with cancer. Forgive me, how long have you had it?” Aziraphale inquired as politely as possible.</p><p> </p><p>She looked downtrodden again. “About six months. I just had another treatment last week, and today is the first time I felt well enough to get out of bed.” She was on the verge of tears.</p><p>“I was a teacher.” She cried, “It’s the only thing I’ve only wanted to do in my life.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale tone was kind. ‘You’ll return to teaching, my dear, I know it. And I’m sure your children miss you and want you back.”</p><p> </p><p> An awkward pause reigned for a moment before he spoke up again. "To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first."  At her puzzled expression, he continued with a gentle smile, “William Shakespeare.” </p><p> </p><p>Her expression changed to one of delight. “Do you like Shakespeare?” </p><p> </p><p>“Indeed I do, my dear!” the angel beamed. </p><p> </p><p>“He likes the gloomy ones.” Crowley rumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh do hush, Crowley.” He admonished, then returned his attention to the lady. “I love all manner of books, really. I have a bookshop in London Soho.” </p><p> </p><p>“And he’s probably read every book in the place.” Crowley inserted. </p><p> </p><p>At this, Aziraphale did shrug a little sheepishly. “Perhaps!” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Learning never exhausts the mind </em>. Leonardo Da Vinci.” She pronounced. </p><p> </p><p>“What an amazing human being Leonardo was.” Aziraphale said dreamily. “Truly a Renaissance Man.” </p><p>“Well, you can sit here all day quoting books. I’m gonna go to the cafe.” Crowley announced in a growl.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, don’t be rude!” He snapped.</p><p> </p><p>Cecilia laughed gently, “It’s fine. I think I’ll go in, it’s getting a little too warm outside for me.” She rolled to the pair and shook hands with them before departing.</p><p> </p><p>“When they were alone, Azirapale remained quiet. </p><p> </p><p>“Angel, what’s the matter?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked up toward the azure sky, “I was just thinking that perhaps I should help other patients with words of encouragement.” </p><p> </p><p>“If that’s what you want, angel.” Crowley agreed, while he pushed the wheelchair back indoors. “You have a really strong and useful thing; your words. You’re a clever person that can help people without your powers.” </p><p> </p><p>The angel became misty eyed, “Crowley-I….thank you.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley dismissed it with a wave of his hand. ‘Now, how about lunch?” As they cruised down the halls, he exclaimed. “I would like to thank my arms for always being by my side, my legs for always supporting me, and my fingers that I can always count on!” which made Aziraphale laugh.  It drew astonished looks from patients as they passed by them.. </p>
<hr/><p>During the next two days, amid the barrage of  medical tests, Aziraphale and Crowley spent much of their time in the common room, getting to know other patients on the floor.  The angel spoke to Jacob Collins, a construction worker who had broken his leg on the job, Fabrizio Febo, a man who had been in a car accident, and Moira Vetrano, and an older lady with a liver condition, among others. His words of hope and comfort not only surprised those whom he spoke to, but actually brought a smile to their faces. </p><p> </p><p>On Thursday morning, Crowley found Aziraphale in the chaise lounge again, but the angel didn’t seem to hear him come in. His friend appeared to be focused on his hand, rather than anything else. </p><p> </p><p>“A-Aziraphale?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel started out of his reverie and looked at him, azure eyes wide. “Crowley,” he said breathlessly, “it’s...it’s back. My miracles are back!” </p><p> </p><p>“Thank Someone!” Crowley pronounced while stalking to his friend’s side. “How strong do you feel?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale merely shrugged his shoulders, “I was able to summon a cup of tea this morning.” </p><p> </p><p>“Do you feel strong enough to get outta here then?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel didn’t hesitate. “Even if I didn’t, I want to leave. I’ve grown quite bothered by being here. Being woken in the middle of the night for check-ups, the noise, and this-stuff.” he pointed to the machine still attached to him. “Not that I’m not grateful,” he said slightly louder, eyes raised to the ceiling to address another, “ I’m just well enough that I needn’t be here any more.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes. “Now that you’ve got that off your chest, can we go now?” When snapped his fingers, the medical things detached and disappeared. “I’ve gotten rid of all your medical records.  He snapped his fingers again and Aziraphale’s regular daywear appeared again, though modified to fit the cast and arm sling. </p><p> </p><p>“Just a moment, Crowley.”  Aziraphale seemed to concentrate for a moment, then snapped his fingers. Nothing happened, and his friend just stared at him. The next moment, the angel began to crumple. Crowley rushed over to steady him. </p><p> </p><p>‘Dammit angel, don’t push yourself.” He miracled a wheelchair which he piled Aziraphale in and started towards the door. ” The pair were met with several blank stares as they passed the nurses’ station, but one called pleasantly, ““Congratulations on leaving the hospital, Mr. Fell!”</p><p> </p><p>They were near the ground floor when Aziraphale heard a familiar female voice, “Senoire Fell!” </p><p> </p><p>Cecilia Miliani rolled up to the pair with a brightened expression. “I-I wanted to thank you for what you said to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale began to speak up. “It was nothing, my dear girl.” </p><p> </p><p>“I have some wonderful news. The doctors looked at my tests today and said that my cancer has gone into remission!” </p><p> </p><p>“That is such wonderful news my dear!” Aziraphale exclaimed, glancing up to Crowley who gave him a knowing look. <em> How many people did you miracle well, angel? </em></p><p> </p><p>He pulled a business card from his pocket. “This is my store’s address and phone number. Please come visit me if you’re in London.” </p><p> </p><p>“I will, thank you!”  She pulled Aziraphale into an awkward hug. “I’m glad you’re well enough to leave the hospital, Mr. Fell. Good luck on your recovery!” She waved goodbye as they passed the automatic doors. </p><p> </p><p>The pair wheeled into an empty alcove, before Crowley put the angel's uninjured arm around his shoulder to help him stand. “Ready, Aziraphale?” </p><p> </p><p>The angel nodded and with a flick of Crowley’s fingers, they were teleported back to Aziraphale’s bookshop. The demon helped Aziraphale to the couch, where he sagged gratefully into the old cushions . The angel’s eyelids were at half-mast as he whispered, “I’m so glad to be home.”</p><p> </p><p> Crowley had no doubt about that. “Look, how about a cuppa tea, and you just have a lie down?” </p><p> </p><p>“I would appreciate that, Crowley.” Aziraphale said tiredly, while taking off his shoes. Crowley helped swing the angel’s leg up onto the sofa, while miracling another down pillow. </p><p> </p><p>“S’okay, angel. Be right back.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley went to the kitchen to make tea, gathering some Yorkshire pudding, biscuits and a few other small sweets (some which he had to miracle fresh) onto a platter. Crowley had steered to the small back room, where he found Aziraphale asleep. Putting aside the platter, he miracled Aziraphale’s jacket off, and tucked a comforter around the sleeping angel’s form. It would take some time for him to recover enough to heal, but Crowley felt he needed to be here to help the angel. He could pop back to his flat to water and yell at his plants, but Aziraphale would need someone around until he was strong enough to miracle away his injuries.</p><p> </p><p>Looking at the sleeping angel, he said, “Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect.” </p><p> </p><p>End Chapter</p><p> </p><p>TBC…..</p><p> </p><p>Mariya made a cute piece of fanart for this chapter!</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i> I haven't updated this since *looks at calendar* August 10th?! </i><br/>I'm so sorry! Between writer's block, Inktober and the U.S. Election, I was just getting nowhere with this fic.<br/>I want to thank the members of Good Omens Dub Comics Discord for helping work out all the writing issues I had.</p><p>Internet cookie if you can guess what that last quote is from!</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Quarantine and Passover (March 2020)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <i>Passover is celebrated while a virus sweeping the world.</i>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Note: The pandemic is mentioned, but only in passing and not by name. <br/>I did my best to explain the ritual, so I hope you'll forgive me for any mistakes I make.<br/>Happy Passover</b>
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  <span>The pandemic lockdown had begun only days before the spring holidays.  All of London, as well as Great Britain's citizens seemed to disappear into their homes overnight. Both  Aziraphale and Crowley sensed the panic and worry radiating off the humans as they rushed for food and supplies before the lockdown was implemented. It was an unhappy scene that the supernatural beings were all too familiar with; in  many centuries including the 16th century, and during the Spanish Influenza.</span>
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  <span>During one night of drinking at the bookshop, Aziraphale didn’t seem to be in his usual good spirits. It didn’t surprise Crowley, but he decided to speak up anyway. “What’s wrong, angel? You’re not getting drunk as much as you usually do.” </span>
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<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale seemed distant as he replied. “I’m worried about this virus, Crowley. It seems to be spreading very fast and infecting so many people.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry angel.” Crowley gave him a reassuring, if not fake smile. “Two weeks remember? That’s how long we’ll have to stay in lockdown according to the government.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I have orders from on High,” Aziraphale sputtered, “f-from Gabriel that I’m not to do anything about this. I had healed a few of the infected at the hospital you see….” Aziraphale sobbed lightly, “Oh God, Crowley…”   </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The demon put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders, allowing the angel to express his grief and fear, before the tears slowed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I was going to invite the children over for Easter. But I wonder if we should be celebrating anything at all” Aziraphale croaked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Of course you should. We need a little celebration during something like this.” Crowley affirmed. “Tell ya what, why don’t I set it up so that the kids can still have a party with us?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale tilted his head.  “How?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just leave it to me, angel. You just get the things for the Seder.” Crowley responded with a wink. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The afternoon of the First night of Passover seemed to arrive slowly, as much did during the initial days of the quarantine. Aziraphale had busied himself putting final touches onto his dining table. He had rid the bookshop kitchenette of all leavening agents as per the ritual before the holiday. He had taken to making a small amount of matzah. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley appeared seemingly out of thin air, a black Yamaka on his head and carrying what looked like a thin book made of metal and a paper bag. “Hey Angel!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale actually smiled as he looked up from his table setting. He nodded to the metal case. “What is that?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley rolled his eyes, “It’s a laptop. Smaller version of that monstrosity of a computer you have in your back room.”  He sat it on the table, much to the chagrin of Aziraphale. “Before you get mad at me for ruining your beautifully set table, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He lifted the lid of the computer and tapped a few buttons. On the screen, were the Them, all of whom were sitting at a card table in what looked to be a garden. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Uncle Crowley, Uncle Aziraphale!” The kids shouted while waving at the camera. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale waved back a little awkwardly. “Hello children! What are you up to today?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re gonna have a Passover Seder with you and Uncle Crowley!” Adam exclaimed with a huge grin. “He sent us the instructions and the-” he stopped mid-sentence and looked over to Wensleydale, “How is it pronounced?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha-guh-duh” Wensleydale replied.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, right...Haguhduh.” Adam continued. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley put a hand to his hip. “Alright, let’s see your Seder plate, then. Go’on!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Brian piped up, “We decided to make our own! We have the celery, and the romaine lettuce lettuce, then Nutella, sour gummies and  graham crackers.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Brian’s mom boiled an egg and a potato for us. Adam’s mom let us use a soup bone!” Pepper added. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked a little bemused, while Crowley laughed. “You all have your cups? I hope you’re not drinking wine….”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Grape juice!” Adam grinned, raising a container. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The angel nodded. “Alright, everyone fill your glasses and we’ll start.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Them did so, and quieted down as Crowley began. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale, children</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>B-blessed are You, L‑rd, our G‑d, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><em><span>Blessed are You, G‑d, our G‑d, King of the universe, who has chosen us from among all people, and raised us above all tongues, and made us holy through His commandments. And You, G‑d, our G‑d, have given us in love.</span></em> <em><span>festivals for happiness, feasts and festive seasons for rejoicing </span></em><em><span>this </span></em><em><span>day of this Feast of Matzot and this Festival of holy convocation, the Season of our Freedom </span></em><em><span>in love</span></em><em><span>, a holy convocation, commemorating the departure from Egypt. For You have chosen us and sanctified us from all the nations, and You have given us as a heritage Your holy </span></em><em><span>Shabbat and</span></em><em><span> Festivals </span></em><em><span>in love and favor</span></em><em><span>, in happiness and joy. Blessed are You, G‑d, who sanctifies Israel and the festive seasons.” </span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>After drinking wine while reclining in his seat (while the kids drank their grape juice), he and Aziraphale both washed their hands from a clear glass pitcher, while the Them did the same with their plastic pitcher, the next step was to dip the celery into salt water, followed by breaking off the middle matzah, while the other piece was hidden under a cloth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Crowley read the Passover story, and when that was finished, Aziraphale asked, “Now kids, it’s time for the Four Questions. Who is going to read them off?” .</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Them looked at one another then Adam said, “We’re each gonna take one, Uncle Zira.” He cleared his throat. “</span>
  <span>Why is this night different from all the other nights?</span>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley responded with, “</span>
  <span>We eat only matzah because our ancestors could not wait for their breads to rise when they were fleeing slavery in Egypt, and so they were flat when they came out of the oven.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Brian spoke next: “</span>
  <span>That in all other nights we do not dip vegetables even once, on this night, we dip twice?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We eat only Maror, a bitter herb, to remind us of the bitterness of slavery that our ancestors endured while in Egypt.” replied Aziraphale.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wensleydale was next: “</span>
  <span>That on all other nights we eat both chametz and matzah</span>
  <span> on this night, we eat only matzah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley answered, “The first dip, green vegetables in salt </span>
  <span>water, symbolizes the replacing of our tears with gratitude, and the second dip, Maror in Charoses, symbolizes the sweetening of our burden of bitterness and suffering.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's Maror and Charoses?" Brian interrupted, and earned a glare for it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charoses is a mixture of apples and nuts in wine." Aziraphale remarked calmly.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, it was Pepper’s turn, “That in all other nights some eat and drink sitting with others reclining, but on this night, we are all reclining?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale spoke, “We recline at the Seder table because in ancient times, a person who reclined at a meal was a free person, while slaves and servants stood.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley said the blessing before eating the matzah, followed by the maror, and then a sandwich of both. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How does the sour worms and nutella between graham crackers taste?” Crowley chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adam chuckled and exclaimed between bites with a shrug. “Not that bad, really. I may have invented a new food.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley then delved into the details of the Exodus from Egypt and the 10 plagues that ensued to try to force Pharaoh to let the Jew go. The Them listened in rapt attention as the demon played out the whole story. After this, hands were washed again, this time followed by a prayer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not long after this, </span>
  <span>Aziraphale snapped his fingers, making the matzah which had been hidden in the cloth disappear from the table. “Alright children. There’s a piece of matzah hidden in your garden. The first person who finds it gets a prize!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Four pairs of eyes lit up and it didn’t take long for them to tumble out of their seats to find the item. Even with the sun setting, the Them took to the task enthusiastically. Five minutes later, they heard Pepper cry out, “I found it!” She came into the computer’s screen holding up the found cloth wrapped matzah. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good, Pepper!” Azirphale beamed. The matzah was miraculously exchanged for a candy bar, which made the girl’s eyes sparkle. “No eating that until after dinner, young lady.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adam called his mom from a distance, who then appeared with a large platter of roasted meat, He also carried out dishes to lay on the table. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for letting the kids participate in your Passover celebration, Mr, Fell, Mr, Crowley.” She said politely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And thank you for making them a meal, Mrs. Young!” Aziraphale replied kindly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! Thank you Mrs. Young!” the children echoed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The table was filled with roasted chicken and carrots, and mashed potatoes. Still, the angel, demon and kids partook of their meal with excitement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>:”Mr. Crowley, Mr. Aziraphale? Can I ask a question?” Brian asked while chewing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course lad!” The angel nodded while taking a sip of wine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Brian looked down at his plate, “D-did you know about the plagues? Were you there to see them happen?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The joy of the meal soon dissipated from Aziraphale’s face. His face became saddened as he spoke softly. “Yes, we were there. We saw all of the plagues play out. Each seemed worse than the next, and killing innocent children…” he shook his head.  “We had been on Earth for a long time at that point, 2500 years. But seeing humanity, the innocent Egyptians cry out and suffer like that just because of the pharaoh…..” Tears had begun to form in his eyes</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silence that ensued was cut short by a cry of “ouch! What’dya do that for Pepper?” by Brian, who was now rubbing the back of his head where the girl had slapped him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You made him sad, you idiot!” snapped Pepper. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that the point though,” Adam mused, “Passover is not only a celebration of freedom from slavery from Egypt, but also the suffering both sides endured so that the Jewish people could be free?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Aziraphale and Crowley glanced at each other, then to Adam with a little surprise. ”You’re very wise, Adam.” Aziraphale said, “Never lose that.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After dinner,  the </span>
  <em>
    <span>afikoman </span>
  </em>
  <span>(the matzah which had been hidden) was eaten, while the children ate their graham crackers, then </span>
  <span>Crowley said another blessing and the third cup of wine or grape juice was drunk.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Time to let Elijah in!” Crowley announced, going to the bookshop door and swinging open. Aziraphale shivered slightly as the cold air rushed through.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Wensleydale did the same for the kitchen door, and got a sharp call to close the door from Adam’s mother. Sheepishly, Brian called out, “Sorry, Mrs, Young!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Both Aziraphale and Crowley sang Passover songs and songs of praises, while the kids clapped along and the final cup was drunk. Finally, the Seder was concluded with Crowley saying “Next year in Jerusalem!” which the children echoed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Uncle Zira! Uncle Crowley! That was really fun!” Came the exclaim from each of the Them.  “Will you do a virtual Easter with us?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course!” Aziraphale chuckled,” Thank you for joining us for the Passover!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they had signed off, Aziraphale looked up to see that his glass was once again full, and Crowley had raised his in a toast. “L'CHaim!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale raised his glass and clinked it against Crowley’s own. “To life.” he whispered. Even in trying and frightening times, small celebrations mean so much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>/End Chapter</strong>
</p>
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</p>
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</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. April Fools, Angel! (2020)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley is bored, and he can't prank anyone because of the lockdown. So he turns his demonic means towards a certain angel...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span> was bored, transcendentally so.  He had scrolled through Youtube for the 20th time for the day, and <span class="s-rg-t">marathoned</span> Golden Girls episodes for the <span class="s-bl-t">last</span><span class="s-bl-t">....</span> four hours.  Sitting crossways in his armchair, the demon glanced boredly at his phone.  His eyebrows rose when he found 'April Fools Day Pranks' trending.  <span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span> glanced at the old-school digital calendar on his desk and noted that today was indeed, April 1st.<br/><br/><span class="s-bl-t"> He</span> glanced out the window at the empty street. Since the lockdown, not many  people  were on the street, only those who were  walking  a  dog , or jogging.  He could have gone down and caused chaos, but everyone was so afraid and miserable as it was, that it would take away from the fun of the holiday.  However, he knew a certain unsuspecting angel;  the trick was to find something annoying but wouldn't make the angel TOO angry at him.  <br/><br/><br/>So <span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span> searched for funny April Fools jokes until he found one that made him laugh.  Oh... this was going to be FUN.  <br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/><span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> had woken from his nap with a start.   Usually ,  he was not one to sleep, but with the lockdown and no business ,  he   found  himself  taking  naps.  He didn't know why <span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span> like them so, as he woke <span class="s-rg-t">groggy</span> and <span class="s-ve-t">lazy</span>.  He glanced at his mug, where the hot coca had congealed.  A nice fresh cup would suit on a chilly day like this.  Getting up and walking to the kitchen he hummed quietly while waiting for the water to boil.  <br/><br/>A moment later, a small swish of wind made him jerk his head up and peek cautiously into the main area of the bookshop.  "<br/><br/>Hello? "<span class="s-bl-t"> he</span> called.<br/><br/>There was silence, except for the ticking grandfather clock. <span class="s-bl-t"> Furrowing</span> his eyebrows.  If anyone were coming for him, he would have heard their movements and see them in the shop as it was a small space.  The angel held still, waiting for the sound to repeat.  When it did not, he hesitantly went back to fixing his hot chocolate.  The tension didn't diminish even as he realized he was indeed alone in the bookshop.<br/><br/><span class="s-rg-t">Still....it</span> felt as though he was being watched.  Shaking it off, <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> returned to his desk and lifted the book he had been reading.  Then he heard a tiny 'click' sound and paused.  When he moved the book again, he again heard the tiny noise.  Closing the book, <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> had stood up to begin an investigation when he glanced down at the tome's cover.  On it were a pair of plastic-y moving eyes 'looking' at him.  Turning, he found every book spine had these sets of eyes. Even the bust now sported the goofy eyeballs that made it look absurd.<br/><br/>On it was a sign that read 'APRIL FOOLS, ANGEL! " <br/><br/>"<span class="s-rg-t">Crowley</span>!"  <span class="s-rg-t">Aziraphale</span> growled.  He snapped his fingers, but the eyes didn't disappear.  <br/><br/>Another sign appeared.  'YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GET <span class="s-ve-t">RID</span> OF THEM UNTIL AFTER MIDNIGHT.  HAVE FUN! " <br/><br/><br/>And two miles away, a certain demon was laughing at his prank. Totally worth it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a little April Fools Day flash fiction because we need a little fun this year!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <i>Thank you to the Good Omens Fanfic Guild and Darlings Discord member for helping me with these concepts. </i>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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